[September 9, 1973, Availon]
Fortunately, Bella returned to us the very next day. Not that I'd been especially worried… but there was a certain tension in the air. Dorothea, on the other hand, had been more anxious than she let on, and when Black finally appeared in the house, she let out a breath of relief. She'd grown more attached to Bella than I had, and it showed.
"Hello, how did everything go?" I asked, though Hal had already kept me updated in real time.
"Everything's fine. I barely managed to keep myself from hexing that rotten face," Bella said, dropping into an armchair across from Dorothea and me. I'd taught her true sight as soon as possible, so I knew she was talking about his soul, not just his looks. "But Selina worked perfectly. She kept me calm and even managed to fool that bastard. Can you believe it? He just dove into my head like he owned the place. No greeting, no warning, just straight to legilimency and rummaging around."
"That's exactly what I've been saying: you didn't have a mind, you had a public thoroughfare. Anyone could walk in, take what they wanted. Even a first-year in mental magic could have subdued you. They were breaking you on purpose, Bella. Maybe, once your main personality was destroyed, he'd have taught your second self occlumency," I replied, watching her clench and unclench her fists, fighting to stay calm. I couldn't imagine how much willpower it took not to attack him on the spot. "And your family? Did they let you come here without a fuss?"
"As soon as they heard that the 'Dark Lord' himself — " she made air quotes, her face twisting in disgust, " — was interested in you, they turned into little lambs. They even started lamenting how they'd ignored you before."
"I don't need respect or reputation built on someone else's favor. Especially not his. So, in a way, it's good things turned out this way. I don't want to be seen as Gaunt's protégé," I said, shaking my head. "Let's get ready for the celebration. My mother and stepfather will be here soon, and my student as well."
We didn't have time for more introductions, because Pandora and my mother arrived in Availon just then, and it was time to use the long-distance portkey. I'd crafted it with extra care — teleporting a pregnant woman is never recommended. We all grabbed the wooden staff, and in a blink, we were standing in Japan, right at the gates of Ryozanpaku.
"Mom, how are you feeling?" I asked immediately.
"Perfectly fine, Arthur. Surprisingly smooth, considering we just crossed half the world," she replied, smiling. I knocked on the massive door — four meters high, thick as a tree — and it swung open almost at once, revealing Hayato. He looked as imposing as ever, though now younger, and he'd shaved his beard. Probably to hide the wrinkles. Behind him stood two veela in traditional Japanese kimonos.
"Oh, so this is my student!" he boomed, clapping me on the shoulder so hard my feet sank into the ground up to my ankles. "And you've gotten stronger, I see!"
"I try not to disappoint my teacher's expectations," I grinned, brushing dust off my suit.
"Hahaha, keep trying, but I'm still not giving you my daughter," he laughed, then turned to the others. "Well, why are we standing on the threshold? Come in, come in!"
Inside, everything was decorated in classic Japanese style — flowers, festive red lanterns with candles, and in the center of the courtyard, a long table already set for a feast. Familiar faces like Kensei, Saiga, Shizuha with Miu, and many unknown masters with their families were already seated.
"I see you've brought additions?" Hayato nodded toward Pandora and Bella, who couldn't have been more different — fire and water, not just in hair and temperament, but in their choice of clothes. Bella wore a black cocktail dress, Pandora a green blouse and blue jeans. I'd told them clothing was free choice here, knowing the customs.
"Not quite the same kind as yours, teacher," I nodded toward the veela twins, Kori and Lori — one of whom lifted her chin proudly, the other blushing. "This is my first student, Pandora!"
"And what did you eat to get so tall?" Pandora asked Hayato, eyes wide.
"Hahaha! I already like her. You know how to pick your students, Arthur."
"And this is Bella," I introduced Black, who bowed with dignity, while Pandora poked Hayato's stone abs with a curious finger.
"Very pleased to meet you. The more, the merrier — come, sit!" Hayato waved us to the table, where Shizuha and the other women were pouring drinks and serving food to the men. Such are the traditions. Though, honestly, Hayato didn't care much for tradition — he had his own principles, like protecting the innocent and the "fist of life," but everything else he shrugged off. As I'd read, titans were anarchists at heart. Still, they had their own sense of fate, and I think Furinji found his.
Hayato shook hands with Ludwig and greeted the others. "Dorothea, Ariel, you look beautiful as always. And pregnancy only makes a woman more radiant."
"Oh, you'll make me blush," my mother waved him off, while Ludwig's face soured. He knew about my mother's fondness for muscular men.
"What about gifts?" I asked, glancing at the pile of packages.
"Ah, just drop them somewhere, we'll sort it out later," Hayato said, waving it off in his typical style. After that, we all sat down and began the meal. For the European guests, there were both chopsticks and traditional forks and spoons.
I noticed that among Hayato's friends, there was a huge range of ages and nationalities — Black, Chinese, Russian, Mexican. There were women and men, old and young. But that was no surprise. Hayato, with his kindness, cheerfulness, and unbreakable loyalty, easily won trust and friendship. As the elder's student, I drew plenty of attention from both sexes.
Some girls asked if I had a girlfriend, but quickly backed off when I pointed to Dorothea at my side. Only veela can compare with kitsune in beauty — but good luck finding those masters of illusion and transformation.
During the Meiji Restoration, the mage clans hunted kitsune and other yokai, and since then, they've become even better at hiding than wizards themselves. That's why I never planned to seek their blood for transformation — you won't find it, you can't buy it, and if you see a strong kitsune, best to run the other way.
At the end of the celebration, Pandora and I put on a show of living fireworks — fiery creatures chasing each other across the sky, hidden behind a barrier from ordinary eyes. I don't know what the others gave, but I'd arranged a supply of youth potions from the Medici in exchange for the basilisk. Now every family member had two hundred years in reserve, and I gave Furinji several. People like him — well, not quite people — should live a long time.
Throughout the evening, a black-haired man with a mustache courted Bella. I learned his name was Akisame Koetsuji, a martial arts genius who'd become a master in just a few years. I didn't ask Bella about him — if she liked him, I was happy for her. If not… she wouldn't have tolerated him near her. Amusingly, Pandora managed to convince Hayato to give her a ride on his shoulders, and Ludwig was the only one from our group who got drunk — my mother and the girls didn't drink, and alcohol doesn't affect me at all.
***
{Vasily Borisov was an ordinary guard and dragonologist at the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary.}
Being a pure-blood only in the second generation, it had taken him great effort to break into this prestigious, well-paid, and dangerous profession. But today his fifteen-day shift was over, and he headed to the nearest pub to get drunk. He'd hidden most of his money in the dormitory, taking only what he was willing to lose on drink, women, or bad luck — he'd learned not to risk his whole salary.
Unfortunately, the pub was nearly empty — Sunday night wasn't the best time for drinking, with work looming in the morning.
"Good evening, are you bored?" A pretty girl in the classic uniform of her trade — fishnet stockings, short skirt, deep neckline, heavy makeup — slid into the seat across from him.
"It's a lot less boring now," Vasily grinned, feeling his mood (and something else) rise. She was surprisingly attractive, even for a working girl. Or maybe it was the three pints of beer talking. "Can I buy you a drink?"
"I'd be flattered by your attention," she purred, her voice so seductive and promising that Borisov nearly embarrassed himself on the spot.
"And how much does your attention cost?" he asked, licking his lips.
"Fifty galleons," she said, and as he started to protest, she added, "For the whole night."
"Your place or mine?" Vasily counted out the coins with trembling hands and pressed them into her palm, barely restraining himself from dragging her upstairs right then and there.
"Let's go up — I have a room," she said, and under the envious stares of the pub's few regulars, Borisov nearly ran up the stairs after her. But when he entered the room, he saw not a tempting woman, but a wand pointed at his face.
"Stupefy!" The girl's smile vanished as she stunned him, then downed a polyjuice neutralizer, transforming into Arthur. He'd never waste a whole matrix slot on a single transformation, nor would he send Dorothea or Bella on such a mission. "Merlin, I hate women's clothes. Who even invented them? I should start my own line of underwear for witches — there'd be no shortage of customers."
"Overdid it with the lust," Arthur muttered, noticing the spreading stain on Borisov's trousers. "Well, buddy, hold this crystal."
He placed a quartz crystal in the stunned man's hand, copying the matrix from his mind. After what Arthur planned, the guard's mind might be checked for tampering, but copying a matrix was almost impossible to detect.
"Hal, how long for decryption?" he asked.
"About ten minutes," Hal replied.
"Good enough. Let's work." Arthur had already covered the room with a secrecy veil, so all that remained was to clean up any traces of his aura and magic, and pour strong alcohol over the poor guy. Let him think the prostitute robbed him. He even took some of Borisov's money to make it convincing. He felt a little sorry for the man, but he was about to do something much worse, and leaving traces would be foolish.
"Done. Scanning charms work on aura, not appearance, so metamorphmagus and polyjuice won't help," Hal reported, sending Arthur a data packet with the sanctuary's security system details.
"That's what we were counting on," Arthur said, cutting his finger with a charm, dripping Borisov's blood on an amulet, and healing the wound. Then he put the amulet on, drank polyjuice with Gaunt's hair — nearly vomiting from the taste — and became the snake-faced "Ugly Mug," as Selina called him. For completeness, he donned a perfect copy of the mask the Walpurgis Knights wore on raids. Then he created doppelgangers, each taking the form of another Gaunt supporter — though not all, since he didn't want to frame Bella.
He cast every concealment charm he could, but only wand-based ones, and apparated to the sanctuary gates. The guards barely had time to blink before they were bound. Arthur left two of the four paralyzed but conscious, so it would look like they'd been let through or the spells were too weak — dragonologists wore protective amulets.
"Rodolphus, Rabastan," Arthur said, dropping his disguise and launching into a grandiose speech, "today is a momentous day! Dragons will serve me, Voldemort! With them, I will conquer England, then the world! Remember this day, my faithful servants!" He strode inside with all the majesty he could muster, then quickly made his way not to the enclosures, but to the sanctuary's holy of holies — the egg storage. He'd seen it almost ten years ago on a tour.
The number of dragons is strictly controlled, and excess eggs are kept in a stasis chamber — dozens, maybe hundreds, of fertilized eggs, laid in the sanctuary, confiscated from poachers, or found by wild dragon hunters.
From Borisov's memory, Arthur knew how to deactivate the chamber without triggering the alarm that would bring not only all of Romania's aurors, but half of Europe. The dragonologists were under an oath of secrecy, but… the dragonologist hadn't told anyone. And it's considered pointless to invade an unconscious mind — except maybe to look at dreams.
Arthur, with the help of his doppelgangers, carefully packed the eggs into a bag — using magic on them was risky, as dragon eggs resist spells and could be ruined. Then he visited the ingredient storage — even a young dragon yields hundreds of kilos of skin, meat, bones, and blood. But he had one more task.
"Hello, friend, caught again?" Arthur asked the opal-eyed Antipodean.
"You smell strange," it replied, if you translated dragon speech.
"Had to disguise myself. Want to live somewhere you won't be hunted?"
"I would, but I have a mate," the dragon said, and Arthur saw a smaller, frightened female behind him.
"No problem. Any other intelligent dragons here?" The Antipodean shook his head, and Arthur wasn't planning to take them all. He needed dragons for breeding, and the rest for ingredients. Hypocritical? Maybe, but what human isn't? Breaking into the enclosure, Arthur disabled the protections and apparated away with them, using several charges from his accumulator.
Only when he was somewhere in Bulgaria did he summon and open the suitcase, sending the Antipodeans into Availon's forest. They entered warily, but without resistance, once they saw he wasn't planning to harm them. Arthur then jumped around the world, cleaning up his traces — not that it was strictly necessary, but it calmed his paranoia.
***
[September 11, 1973. Monday, Lestrange Manor.]
——————
"Voldemort robbed the World Dragon Sanctuary!"
Our correspondents have learned that the leader of the Walpurgis Knights, known as Mr. Gaunt — or, as he's called in certain aristocratic circles, Voldemort — has been identified as a suspect in the theft of 137 dragon eggs from 17 species, more than two hundred twenty thousand pounds of rare ingredients, and an extremely rare pair of Opal-Eyed Antipodeans.
The damage is estimated at hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of galleons. The Romanian Auror Office has declined to comment, considering this only one version of the investigation, and suspects the use of polyjuice potion. An anonymous source claims that in the criminals' conversation, the names of the Lestrange brothers — Rodolphus and Rabastan — were mentioned…
Your devoted journalist,
Rita Skeeter.
——————
"What is this?!" Gaunt roared at the Lestranges — also known as Tom Riddle, also known as Voldemort. "Who the hell is framing us, and I only find out from a pathetic little newspaper? Find me the culprit and bring me his head — no, bring him alive, I'll torture him myself!"
The Lestrange brothers retreated, trembling. The Lord had been in a foul mood lately, and a Crucio "hug" was always a possibility. They were only spared because Gaunt was living in their house and restraining himself — for now. But the key word was "for now." The Lord brooded. Few people knew exactly who his supporters were. That meant there was a rat among his slaves, leaking information.
He dismissed the Lestranges — they'd been framed first, along with him. Bella? Her mind was so thoroughly washed she'd sooner slit her own throat. The Malfoys? Maybe, for the right price, but what would they do with dragons? Nowhere to keep them, and you couldn't sell them on the black market without being caught. Carrow, Avery, McNair? Who would have told? He'd have to check everyone, and they'd better not resist, Voldemort decided.
***
Remus Lupin thought long and hard about Marlow's offer. Whether it was true or not was almost beside the point — the real question was what he wanted for himself. Did he really want to stop being dangerous to those around him? Or had he just been using the curse as an excuse? No friends? Blame the curse. Lazy? Blame the curse, even if the full moon was two weeks ago.
Was he ready to give up such a convenient excuse? Was he ready to be just another wizard? The unknown terrified him — torn between hope and fear. And could he trust this transfer student? What if it was all a joke, and Marlow just wanted to laugh at him? But what if not? What if this was his only chance?
"Remus, mate, what's up with you?" James Potter asked, clapping him on the shoulder. Remus jumped — he'd been so deep in thought, even his werewolf senses hadn't noticed his friend's approach. "Want to go mess with Snape?"
"Nah, I'm out," Sirius Black said, his eyes suspiciously blue with crimson spots. "Last time I went after him, the girls hit me with so many charms I'm still feeling the aftereffects."
"Ha, coward, hiding behind girls' skirts," Peter Pettigrew snickered, though he'd been the first to run when things got hot. But not caught — not a thief, as they say.
"I wouldn't mind hiding behind girls' skirts either," Sirius laughed, his bark-like laugh echoing. He'd matured a bit earlier than his friends and was starting to look at girls as more than just targets for pranks. That's why he was so jealous of Severus. "What do the girls see in Snivelus, anyway? Sure, he started dressing better, fixed his ugly face, but he's still Snivelus!"
"Can't understand girls with logic," James sighed. "I was happy at first that Lily stopped talking to him, but now she only looks at him when he's surrounded by girls. She even watches him."
"How do you know?" Remus asked. James blushed. "I see, using the invisibility cloak again?"
"Hey, it's for her safety! What if that sneaky Slytherin attacks her in a dark corner, pins her down and — "
"Don't project your fantasies onto him," Sirius roared with laughter, and the others joined in. Remus, though, had made up his mind. He was going to see Marlow. Well, he wouldn't actually kill him, would he?
***
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Thank you for the help with the power stones!!!